by Zoey Long
The row of wooden easels that the school provides is still there. I step over to the one I like, third from the left. There are small pots of paints sitting there, some sealed, some not. And brushes. I pick up a clean brush, let it tickle my palm. I missed this. I missed working in an academic environment. I haven’t been painting much at all this summer. There’s a small knock at the door and my heart jumps with excitement. Then keys turn in the lock.
Noel steps into the space. He’s in the painting program now and has access to the studios too.
“Ha. Fancy meeting you here,” he says.
“Twice in one day, lucky me.”
My heart doesn’t stop pounding. Derrick is due to come meet me any second now. I reach for my phone to text him.
“Nice to see you too, Madison,” he scoffs.
I quickly text the word “wait” to Derrick and put my phone back in my pocket.
Noel closes the door behind him. We’re alone in the studio. He looks at me, not breaking his gaze.
“Noel, what do you want me to say? Things just didn’t work out between us. I’m sorry about that, but I just want you to leave me alone.”
“I know why things didn’t work out between us. It’s not because we’re in different places or want different things or whatever else people say when they don’t want to tell the truth. Okay, you know what? Now is as good a time as any. I saw you and Derrick in the cafe today. I saw you together.”
“Yeah, I know… we talked to you.”
“No. Before I came in. I was watching you the whole time. Since the moment you showed up to meet him in that little green sundress.”
My face goes cold.
“I knew you were fucking your stepbrother. I knew that’s why you called things off with me, why you started missing shifts at work.”
I just stand and stare at him, completely taken aback by the nerve he has.
“Your eyes were all over each other. You were sitting as close as possible without actually touching. And I saw the kiss. I saw that chaste, romantic, slow-motion peck that spoke volumes. You’ve been screwing him all summer long. And you’re still doing it. You’re going to do it all over this campus. It’s disgusting.”
“Fuck you, Noel. How dare you? What right do you have to spy on us? You can’t intimidate me. I don’t care what you saw or what you think you saw—get the hell out of here right now.”
There’s a knock at the door.
“Perfect. Fucking perfect. That’s your lover right now, isn’t it? Of course it is.”
Noel smiles and opens the door.
Chapter 7: Derrick
You’ve got to be kidding me. It’s not Madison who opens the door to her studio, but that little shithead, Noel.
“I fucking knew it!” he yells.
He stands back and cackles to himself, opening the door further so Madison can see me. As I walk into the studio, I see Madison is standing across from him, looking horrified. I know what I’ve just walked into.
“Listen, Noel…” I begin.
“Oh, you’re just here by coincidence? Please. What other reason would you have to meet her here right now? Don’t insult my intelligence. I told her I knew you guys were fucking. You’re probably going to fuck right here and now. Group sex really isn’t my thing, but—”
“Fuck you,” Madison yells at him.
“Nah, we already did that, remember?” he returns.
I’ve had about enough of this asshole. I get up in his face. I don’t put my hands on him, just get in real close and say in a low steady voice:
“Noel. I don’t give a fuck what you think you know. I don’t care what you saw. You stay the fuck away from both of us for the rest of the year, do you understand me? I don’t want to hurt you, but we both know I could. Easily. Now leave us alone.”
Noel doesn’t break eye contact with me. He starts nodding as he backs away from me, never looking away.
“Whatever you say, Derrick. Sorry I interrupted your day for the second time, lovebirds.”
Madison holds my arms and I decide not to kill this guy right here and now. He leaves the studio and shuts the door.
“I didn’t need you to do that for me,” she says.
“I know. I was doing it for myself too. I don’t want him around me either.” We both laugh.
“We could have called campus security,” I say.
“Right, so then we can report this on the first day back and rumors fly anyhow.”
“I don’t think he’ll bother you again,” I assure her.
I take her in my arms, enfold her in my embrace.
“Did you not get my text?” she whispers.
I didn’t even check my phone. I was so excited to get here. I take my phone out and see her message.
“Whoops. Guess I messed that up, huh? I rushed over as fast as possible from the cafe once I hit the twenty-minute mark.”
She looks up at me and smiles.
“You know, as long as we’re here, why don’t you show me around?”
Madison breaks away from me, walks over to her wooden easel.
“There isn’t much to show in here right now. This is the easel I always like to use. I haven’t bought all of my paints yet for the semester.”
“Why do you like that easel?”
“I don’t know, it’s right in front of this window. It just feels right to me.”
I stand behind her. My arms steal around her middle and I pull her into me.
“What about me? Do I feel right to you?”
Madison whips around to face me and kisses me deeply without hesitation. My hands rove all over her, down her back and over her round ass. I squeeze it tightly, our torsos pressed flush. She breaks from the kiss, looks up at me sweetly with those big brown eyes. I realize again just how totally smitten I am with her.
“I think that’s the corniest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” she says.
I let out a deep, hearty laugh.
“You’re right. What the hell are you doing to me? I don’t like this very much.”
“Yes, you do,” she whispers, and kisses me again.
She looks up at me like she suddenly has an idea and drops to her knees.
“What… what are you doing?”
“The door is locked,” she says, fiddling with my pants.
Whoa, maybe she is more of an exhibitionist than I thought. Madison moves her arm up under my shirt, halfway up my torso, caressing my chest. She moves to kiss my hip flexors, runs her tongue along those V-lines every woman I know goes absolutely nuts for. I haven’t always had those, but fighting every day has been good to me.
“God, you’re hot,” she moans.
“I’ve been thinking about fucking you all day long. Ever since I saw you at registration. Your smell was making me crazy in the cafe. I wanted to straddle you and fuck you right in that stool.”
She lets the cotton straps of her sundress fall over her shoulders, and I can see the outline of her big, beautiful, epic tits.
I’m hard by the time she takes me in her hand, licking her palm and running her tongue along the length of my shaft.
“You’re not worried someone will come in?” I breathe.
“When did you get so nervous?” she asks, taking me in her mouth. “You sound like me. Relax.”
Madison steadies my hips with one hand while she moves up and down on my cock. I close my eyes.
“That’s it baby, I love the way you do that. You’re so good at that.”
She gets more excited, moaning and bobbing up and down on my cock even harder.
I stop her for a moment and I lift her to her feet in one motion. Her mouth is red and puffy, her eyes excited.
“What?” she asks. “Do you want me to stop?”
“Come over here.”
I lead her to a small couch that’s sitting next to the row of easels. I assume it’s for figure models to lie on. I stand her up against the side
of the couch, push her against it while I run my hands up under her dress. I cup her breasts, squeeze them hard. Squeeze her stiff nipples with my fingertips.
“Mmm,” she moans and gasps. I can see her watching the door every few moments. Who knows what other students have keys?
“Oh, you can blow me right in the middle of the floor, but now you’re worried?”
She laughs, smiling as I pin her arms behind her back, holding her wrists tight and she moans with building excitement. I lift her dress up over her waist, exposing her panties, white cotton, and bend her straight over the arm on the couch.
I lean down and run my fingers from her ankles up her legs and thighs to the top of her waist. Her body is shivering with my touch. I’ve still got her arms pinned. I play with her pussy a bit from behind, over her panties. I feel the outline of her slit, sense her breathing is quickening with every moment. Her panties are wet as I keep rubbing her through them. I rub her clit in small circles and her pussy swells with excitement. She gets so wet that after a few moments the white panties become translucent. She’s still shaved. It takes everything in me not to pull her panties off and enter her right now. Or put my mouth on her. But this is too good, making her wait. I slip my fingers into her panties and fall in, she’s so wet.
“Ooh, you do like sucking cock,” I tease her.
She moans loudly, leaning down further over the side of the couch, lifting her ass for me.
“Do you like these panties?” I ask her.
“I don’t care. Do whatever you want,” she purrs. “Please.”
I tear her panties off with one strong rip, splitting them down the middle. The sound of them tearing sends her bucking against me. I throw the panties to the side and gaze at her. Her pussy is bare and mine for the taking.
“Please… please. Do it…” she begs, lifting her ass higher in the air for me.
One more look at the door before I enter her strongly, sending her forward, bent squarely over the arm of the couch, grasping for the cushions.
“Yes, you feel so good inside of me. No one feels as good as you. I missed you so much,” she moans.
I missed her too. Everything about making love to her delectable body.
“Shhh… just because we’re alone in here doesn’t mean the walls are soundproof.”
She moans a bit quieter as I keep pumping inside of her. She feels wetter with each thrust, tightening around me. I brace myself against the middle of her back, placing my palm flat against her skin. She’s propped up on her forearms, and her long brown hair hangs around her face. As I keep going, her skin is getting sweaty to the touch. She looks over her shoulder and presses into me harder. I grab her hips with both hands, start pumping her as hard as I can. She throws her head forward again, trying hard not to scream her head off in pleasure. Her legs are vibrating with tension before it releases and she gasps for breath. I keep going for as long as she wants me to.
Chapter 8: Madison
By the time my classes start in earnest, Derrick and I have a pretty solid routine. He meets me for lunch in that pretentious cafe most days, we make fun of each other for the hipster items we both order, we commute home together when we can and always pretend like we sleep in separate rooms. Sometimes he sleeps in my bed all night, but only if we’re feeling particularly daring. We hardly ever kiss in public, but I can’t lie and say it never happens. I’m pretty happy.
Our parents, for one, are overjoyed that we are getting along consistently. I’m pretty sure they’re still oblivious. This morning I have my first studio class of the year. I step into the same white-walled studio space where we confronted Noel, past the couch where Derrick had his way with me. My preferred easel isn’t taken, so I go over to claim it.
“Good morning to you too,” Stephanie says, walking up and taking the easel next to mine. She looks a bit worse for the wear this morning. No makeup, her hair back in a ponytail. Eyes puffy.
“Good morning. Did you go to a big party last night?” I ask her.
“Yeah, can you tell? A bunch of painting students got together. We were out all night. We went to that craft beer bar on Eighth Street.”
“That narrows it down,” I tease.
“Ollie’s. On Eighth and Second. It was fun.”
Stephanie adjusts the height of her easel and starts to set up her paints, not looking in my direction. She lays her canvas out. She’s not smiling, not talking to me.
“Steph, what’s up?” I ask.
“Hm? Nothing.” She keeps setting up, not looking in my direction.
I know she’s lying. Stephanie is always bubbly and she has the worst poker face.
I watch the door. Students are filing in but the teacher isn’t here yet. I see Noel just then. He walks into the room, sending my stomach dropping to my knees. He won’t come near me. At least, I hope he doesn’t come near me, I can’t imagine he would, given the intensity of our last interaction. He’s walking in my direction. What’s he doing? I realize he’s headed for Steph. My mouth hangs agape as he stands by Stephanie’s easel, smiling. How do they even know each other? Neither of them are making eye contact with me.
“Hey there, Steph. You look how I feel. Sorry, hon. I’m just kidding. Good morning. I see last night got to you too?” he says with a big smile.
That insidious little prick. He’s unbelievable. How did he even find her?
“Yeah, I feel terrible,” she says. “Worth it, though. I had a good time.”
“I hear that. Guess there’s no room for me up here,” he says. “I’ll head to the back. Hey, I was thinking, if you’re around, do you want to get lunch today?” he asks her.
Stephanie nods, smiling. Noel heads to the back of the room.
I’m so pissed right now. And confused. Yes, all the easels around us are taken, thank goodness. Otherwise, I feel that the work I produced in this session today would somehow get intensely abstract and possibly involve throwing my materials at, or onto, my fellow artists.
“What the hell was that?” I ask Stephanie.
“What? Noel?” she replies innocently. She might as well be batting her eyelashes at me right now.
“Oh my God. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Yes, Noel. You know I dated him this summer, right?”
“Well, I’m not dating him.”
“Neither am I! What I mean is, how did you even meet him? What is going on between you two? All of a sudden you’re having lunch? I’ve never even mentioned him to you. I’ll tell you the truth. The truth is, I dumped him and now he’s all upset. That’s why he’s acting like that. I think he found you on purpose. Like he knows you’re my best friend and he’s trying to—”
She stops setting up and turns to face me.
“I know you’re not dating him,” she says. “We all know you’re not dating him.”
Oh, Jesus. What the hell did Noel do?
“Okay, you need to tell me what the hell is going on. Right now. Please.”
Class is due to start in about five minutes; we don’t have much time. I don’t care. The thought of having to sit through an entire class with both Stephanie and Noel when he’s obviously starting shit is untenable to me.
Stephanie lowers her voice to a whisper.
“Noel is a nice guy. You know that, or you would never have dated him to begin with. He’s hurt. You were boyfriend and girlfriend and then you dumped him out of nowhere. He told me he took you to his studio and showed you his art. All of his animal portraits. That he sketched you. He’d never done that before. He only said that part to me over drinks last night, privately.”
“Uh, why is he telling you that? This is gross, Stephanie. Think about it for a moment. He’s manipulating you.”
“No, he isn’t. We met in sculpture class a week or so ago and got to talking. I mentioned you, I don’t remember in what context. He was genuinely surprised that I knew you. It was a coincidence.”
Sure it was.
>
“Okay, so what else did he say? And to whom? Who do you think I am dating?”
She looks at me like I should know the answer.
“A bunch of us who were out last night were talking about seeing Derrick around campus, how hot he is.” When she mentions Derrick’s name my head starts to spin. “A whole bunch of girls were gushing about him. Some of them know who he is. Meaning who his family is. That’s when Noel bought me a drink and told me. I disputed it, of course. Then the more I thought about how little I’ve seen you this summer, the more it made sense. By the time I woke up this morning, I really started to believe it. I don’t know who else he told that night. I’m sure no one.”
She looks around again before continuing in a whisper,
“It’s gross, Madison. Don’t make me say it. You know who I’m talking about. You know what I’m talking about. I told you he was your type. He’d be anyone’s type, really. But you guys are… related. There’s a line.”
“We are not related!”
My face must be purple with embarrassment.
“So it’s true, then?” She looks at me.
“No! That’s ridiculous. You’re going to believe something Noel said over me?”
Our teacher walks in, stands at the front of the room. She’s wearing slacks and a white tunic. She looks like my mother used to look, before she became Mrs. Bourse.
“Good morning, artists,” she says.
I try to pay attention and ignore the knots that have formed in the pit of my stomach.
Chapter 9: Derrick
I’m swimming laps in the pool, it’s still warm enough for swimming. To be honest, swimming is a favorite form of cardio for me, next to fighting. Less tough on the muscles and I enjoy the weightlessness of it. My mind starts to wander to when I had Madison pressed against the side of the pool, when I made her come from the strength of the pool jets. The excitement fuels my muscles and my stamina.